


Echo

by almosthuman_butnotquite



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosthuman_butnotquite/pseuds/almosthuman_butnotquite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While fighting mutants in downtown DC, the Lone Wanderer is separated from his partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

> These are two of my characters from Fallout 3. They are my babies, and I wanted to share them with you guys.
> 
> This is also my first published work here, so I hope you enjoy!

The battle had been messy and explosive, literally. A building had collapsed, trapping Shane inside. He was unharmed, luckily, but the mutants he had been fighting were far from it. He grimaced at the one closest to him, maybe a foot away, with a bloody and unrecognizable face.

Shane rose from the debris and dusted himself off. Flicking on his Pip-Boy light, he pulled his weapon out from beneath a large chunk of concrete and placed it in its holster on his back. He wondered where the exit was, and more importantly, Raave.

But Shane was alone.

Shane crawled through the rubble and found a light streaming in from what might possibly be a window. He climbed the debris to the light, but the sturdy pre-war glass was hardly even dented by the blast. He shifted onto his back to try and kick the window out, but it was no use. The latches were rusted shut and the glass appeared to be bulletproof, as his backup 10mm did no damage.

Shane sagged back into the hard rock and thick dust. He had to find a way out. There was no telling how much oxygen he had in such a small space. He was beginning to feel his claustrophobia kicking in already.

Where was Raave? Was he okay? Was he looking for Shane, or was he still fighting for his life out there?

Shane had no answers for these questions. He could hear no sound beyond his own breathing and the silence pressing in on him. No gunshots, no shouts, no barking. Only silence.

"Hello?" he called.

No answer from the outside.

"Hello?" he tried again, louder this time.

Still no answer.

"Is anybody out there?" Tears sprung into his eyes at the answering silence. "I don't hear a sound!"

Alone. He was alone.

"Raave!" he screamed desperately as his fear finally overtook him. He curled up into a ball in a dark corner and let himself cry. He was scared; he felt like a child again, hiding from Butch in the clinic. "Raave," he sobbed.

He didn't know how long he cried, but the light from outside had faded somewhat. He wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve. He needed to grow up and get over his fear. Raave would get over his fear for Shane, no matter what the circumstances were.

Shane stood up and fixed his biker goggles over his eyes. He had to get out somehow, whether he broke that window or he hacked a hole through the debris. He spit on the ground and climbed up the mountain of rubble to the window.

He shot at the latches with his plasma rifle, which made the window squeak in protest. The window gave a jolting shudder and Shane nearly tumbled backwards. He put his rifle back and placed his palms beneath the frame. It was jagged and broken, and his hand slipped. Blood spurted forth, and he clutched his hand to his chest.

Rummaging in his bag, Shane found a strip of clean white cloth Raave had given him. Unfortunately, Raave had all of their Stimpaks, so he would merely have to wrap it and wait until he found Raave. He tied the cloth tight around his palm.

Finding safe spots to place his hands, he pushed with as much strength as he dared to muster. The window squealed as it gave way to him, and fresh air hit him like a punch to face. He scrambled outside and his chest tightened at what he saw.

The buildings on the whole block had collapsed and the sky was colored a pale gray. Dust from the concrete remains swirled around his head and chased each other through the sky.

"Raave!" he screamed.

An answering bark sounded far off and distant.

Shane scrambled off of the ruins and ran through the rubble. He screamed for Raave again, and received another bark. Dogmeat was okay, at least. He just hoped Dogmeat would keep barking long enough for Shane to find him. He would be able to lead him to Raave.

He rounded the corner of a fallen building where he stopped dead. Dogmeat was trapped, trapped beneath a large chunk of concrete. Thankfully, it was only a corner of a room, so Dogmeat would not be too injured. He hoped.

Rummaging through his bag, he found one Stimpak and a crowbar. Thank god he hadn't used the Stimpak on himself.

"You're gonna be okay," he said as he popped some Buffout for a strength booster. "Where's Raave, huh boy? You know where he went?"

Dogmeat gave him an answering bark, a positive one, and Shane grit his teeth. He positioned the crowbar and began to lift up on the concrete. Dogmeat crawled forward before Shane had to set it down. Luckily, it wouldn't pin Dogmeat any more, so Shane was able to carefully drag him out. He injected him with the Stimpak and Dogmeat lay still for a few moments. He nuzzled Shane's bandaged hand and Shane smiled wanly.

"I'll be fine bud," he said quietly as he scratched Dogmeat behind the ears. "We need to get moving," he said as he looked around. "We have to find Raave. You know where he is," he added as he stood up. He patted Dogmeat's rump. "Lead the way."

Dogmeat cantered off around debris and old buildings to the center of the old square, where it was mostly clear of debris. He slowed down, Shane at his heels, and sniffed around curiously. Shane sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I thought you knew where he was," he huffed.

Dogmeat barked and ran across the square to a wall of debris. The legs of a Supermutant Brute peeked out from behind the concrete. Shane followed reluctantly and found Dogmeat sniffing at an overturned table. A wheezing cough answered Dogmeat's whine and Shane hurried over there.

Raave was sitting behind the table, propped up against the wall behind himself as he pressed a hand to his side. He caught sight of Shane and let his head fall back against the wall. "Thank God," he wheezed.

Shane fell to his knees beside Raave and wrapped his arms around Raave's neck. He pressed his forehead to Raave's temple and just held him for a few moments. "Thank God you're okay," he said as he sat back. He dug around in Raave's pack for a couple of Stimpaks and a pair of forceps to remove the bullet lodged in Raave's side.

"Are you okay?" Raave asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he said quickly, swatting Raave's hand away from his wound. He dug the forceps in and, ignoring Raave's protests and shouts of pain, pulled the crumpled 5.56 round out. "I thought I'd lost you," he muttered as he injected Raave with a Stimpak to speed up the healing.

Raave shook his head a little. "I'm fine. Just a flesh wound, eh?"

Shane laughed and unwrapped his hand. "Just a flesh wound," he agreed, and injected himself in the wrist with a Stimpak.

They would be alright for another day, wouldn't they? They still had each other, and that was something to keep in the Capitol Wasteland. They would be alright.


End file.
